tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736Sun, 01 Mar 2015 05:52:45 +0000GriefMoMaxieLoveLossMaxAfterlifeBereaved ParentsPTSDComparing LossTeddyStupid things people sayAdoptionAngerDogsIsraelParenthoodBenefit for MaxieJoyJudgingMaxie's FundsMaxie's GrandmatelevisionMissing MaxieThis blog is dedicated to my Maxie. Max was only 9 and a half months when he stopped breathing at daycare. We are devastated by the loss of our most beloved baby boy. Hopefully, this blog will give readers a sense of what a beautiful spirit he was and will help to keep his memory alive.
http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/noreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)Blogger1053125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-3915440363350436798Fri, 27 Feb 2015 16:57:00 +00002015-02-27T08:57:24.005-08:00ContractionsI'm definitely an epidural kind of gal. I have a pretty high threshold for pain but honestly, I'd rather avoid it. Mace's birth was a scheduled induction. My doctor felt that he'd be another big baby (Mo was 9.5 pounds) and, as he put it, he felt that "there was something to be said for sexual function and bladder control". I agreed -"sign me up", I said. My friend and doula, Courtney (who was at Mace's birth as well as Mo's) explained to me that a pitocin labor is synthetic and that I shouldn't be surprised if the contractions felt stronger and came on faster than with Max. She was right - It was fast and angry. The contractions were relentless. I was in agony but my doctor told me to wait for the epidural because it could slow down the progress or stop it entirely. I didn't wait long, but I waited and during that agonizing wait, all of my grief (which I mostly keep neatly stuffed down I to my inner core) came storming to the surface.&nbsp;<div><br></div><div>Labor, if you've ever been in it, feels (to me) like the physical manifestation of grief.</div><div><br></div><div>Nurses telling me to breathe through it, reminding me to take one contraction at time, and that this will pass. Lying there unable to hear them...the pain so great, so relentless. The sound of my own heavy breathing, the sensation of my pounding heart drowning out every other noise. Literally wondering how I could possibly get through one more minute...unable to use sensitivity in telling someone not to touch me or to back off. It literally felt just like the long, long year and beyond - of grief. I found myself crying, not because of the pain of giving birth, but because of the pain of losing Max. Awful and heavy and I just couldn't process it. I haven't even really tried since either because now I mostly just feel bliss at Mace's being here.&nbsp;</div><div><br></div><div>Unlike the pain of childbirth, which goes away, and which you eventually do mostly forget. The pain of child loss never goes away and often comes back in heavy waves - like being right back in the middle of contractions. My heart breaking and relentlessly pounding - sending waves and waves of pain through my soul - just as intensely as it did in those early, early days and months all over again.</div>http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2015/02/contractions.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-2323886185465642872Tue, 24 Feb 2015 18:23:00 +00002015-02-24T10:23:24.932-08:00Mace Jacob Leviss<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Our third little boy, and fourth baby, entered the world yesterday. Mace Jacob Leviss. He is 7.11 pounds and 20.5 inches. He looks so much like big brother Mo. In fact, we think he looks more like Mo than Mo did when he was born! Super cute and pretty hungry - we love him so much!!</span></div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-pTmQNDFP_pM/VOzBg7tt-hI/AAAAAAAAF0A/KlQPusYZb_Y/s640/blogger-image--817589185.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-pTmQNDFP_pM/VOzBg7tt-hI/AAAAAAAAF0A/KlQPusYZb_Y/s640/blogger-image--817589185.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-3bcTkUvT0HU/VOzBmaxgENI/AAAAAAAAF0I/p8kOr6qjFTo/s640/blogger-image--1644210144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-3bcTkUvT0HU/VOzBmaxgENI/AAAAAAAAF0I/p8kOr6qjFTo/s640/blogger-image--1644210144.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-2a_5EAPFMBA/VOy9w_myxKI/AAAAAAAAFz0/43UuKp_Gbh4/s640/blogger-image--2032549003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-2a_5EAPFMBA/VOy9w_myxKI/AAAAAAAAFz0/43UuKp_Gbh4/s640/blogger-image--2032549003.jpg"></a></div><br></div>http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2015/02/mace-jacob-leviss.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-7236337940827635161Thu, 19 Feb 2015 20:50:00 +00002015-02-19T13:55:57.660-08:00TimingI can't say that Ted and I would have ever chosen to have two children nine months apart or three under the age of three. Don't get me wrong, of course we are grateful and excited. I just don't think this timing would have been the plan - had we actually "planned" it.<div><br></div><div>You may remember that we had been trying to get pregnant for over a year. We had also been hoping to adopt during that period. We were thrilled to find out last April that we'd been matched with a family for adoption, and had I actually brought Myla home from Georgia after she was born, I'm sure we would have stopped trying to get pregnant naturally.</div><div><br></div><div>But I didn't get to come home with Myla. We felt defeated and crushed and frankly, more determined than ever to get pregnant. Within a week I had an appointment with a wonderful fertility specialist (ask me if you are interested in knowing who). She identified a small irregularity in my ovulation cycle and I took a few weeks of herbs that seemed to correct the issue. Either that or it was just luck that had me pregnant within a month of Myla's birth. It turned out that by the time she finally came to live with us in July, I was already pregnant. Having had a few miscarriages, I didn't really know whether this pregnancy would stick or not - but, obviously, it has!&nbsp;</div><div><br></div><div>You often hear about the couple that tried and tried and tried to get pregnant naturally and finally did, right after they adopted. People like to attribute this phenomenon to a sudden lack of stress around the pregnancy issue.&nbsp;<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">This is not our story. I can honestly say that my stress levels surrounding the issue increased after returning home from Georgia empty handed. I partly want to tell you that in case you are beating yourself up over being stressed about not getting pregnant. As my doctor has always said: women manage to get pregnant during war, genocide and famine. Stop beating yourself up.</span></div><div><br></div><div>We are very, very excited about our new arrival. We can't wait to see his little face, hug him and hold him. But, I'd be lying to you if I didn't mention that it's also pretty daunting! Mo is in preschool, we have a nanny, and I will be out on maternity leave. Of course we will manage - but it's still kind of daunting.&nbsp;</div><div><br></div><div>We may not have chosen this timing but if things hadn't happened exactly the way they did, we wouldn't be looking forward to another little boy this next week. We may not be looking forward to this exact little boy. I don't believe that "everything happens for a reason" anymore since losing Max. But in this case, things happened so that one more baby boy could join our family and so that my two little sweet peas would have another friend for life, to play with, confide in, share with (hopefully - eventually) and love. I know these guys won't complain, and even if I do - I wouldn't have it any other way.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-h3XRO2VSvfo/VOZMlnVJwOI/AAAAAAAAFyw/eWBXEQW5Xr4/s640/blogger-image-1639254564.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-h3XRO2VSvfo/VOZMlnVJwOI/AAAAAAAAFyw/eWBXEQW5Xr4/s640/blogger-image-1639254564.jpg"></a></div><br></div>http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2015/02/timing.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-2050474797499215557Wed, 04 Feb 2015 18:11:00 +00002015-02-05T20:19:21.998-08:00Dayenu<b>Dayenu</b> - <i>HEBREW for "it would have been enough".&nbsp;</i><br><br>We Jews sing this song, "Dayenu", at Passover as a reminder of all of the miracles that came with our release from Egypt - ie: "if g-d had only just taken us out of Egypt - it would have been enough"; "if g-d had only given us the land (of Israel) - it would have been enough".... You get the picture.&nbsp; If we'd just been given even one of these things - it would be more than enough - but we got so much more.&nbsp; The song is repetitive and tune-less.&nbsp; By the end - <i>Dayenu</i> - I've generally had enough.<br><br>Today I am taking the liberty to use <i>Dayenu</i> in a different context.&nbsp; I've been impressed at how well Ted and I have actually managed to ride this crazy train that we are currently on, but once in a while the waves of overwhelmedness are a little much.&nbsp; We take on too much as it is, but our timing - holy cow - it's the worst.&nbsp; Like, when we were knee-deep in a kitchen remodel when Max came a month early.&nbsp; Or, when we decided to go into escrow on our house just weeks before leaving for Costa Rica to get married.&nbsp; These are all good things - but stressful on their own.&nbsp; Hence - <i>Dayenu</i>.&nbsp; Right now, we are living in layer upon layer of it:<br><br>1) If only our house was in escrow - <i>Dayenu</i><br>2) If only the house Ted was working on was in the final stages with a deadline of my due date -<i> Dayenu</i><br>3) If only I had what seems like 5 million deadlines for work in the next month - <i>Dayenu</i><br>4) If only we were just moving into my mother's house for the next 2-3 months - <i>Dayenu</i><br>5) If only we didn't have a clue where we were moving to after that - <i>Dayenu</i><br>6) If only I was 37 weeks pregnant (and my doctor was expecting that I'd go into labor any day now...) - <i>Dayenu</i><br>7) If only my beloved pup, Jake, had a growing and bleeding tumor in his mouth and we knew the end was near - <i>Dayenu</i><br>8) If only Myla was 9 months old - <i>Dayenu</i><br>9) If only we were about to start a new chapter in our lives with 3 kids under 3 - <i>DAYENU!!!!</i><br><br>We often wonder if we are secretly craving this kind of chaos - I sure hope not.<br><i>Dayenu</i> - I definitely need a break!<br><br><br>http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2015/02/danyeinu.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-6107592676179661045Tue, 03 Feb 2015 04:00:00 +00002015-02-02T20:01:09.797-08:00Myla Nine Months OldOur Myla turned 9 months old yesterday.&nbsp; 9 months old carries so much weight for us, but ignoring that for now - I will focus on Myla and who she is today!&nbsp; She is a happy girl (I'm repetitive, I know, but it is the best way to describe her).&nbsp; She is good at sitting up, though still tumbles over from time to time.&nbsp; Seemingly no interest in crawling but loves assisted standing and pulling herself to peek over the side of her crib in the morning.&nbsp; She has NO TEETH.&nbsp; I'm told this is no biggie.&nbsp; She LOVES eating food herself (one of the reasons I wish she would get a tooth or two) - mostly puffs, teething biscuits and cheerios.&nbsp; She loves to stare people down until they make eye contact with her and then she flashes her gigantic smile.&nbsp; She is SO into Mo - anything he does is funny and special in her eyes.&nbsp; She is also already a daddy's girl.&nbsp; Ted carries her around on his shoulders around the house and she looks so proud.&nbsp; She also started sleeping through the night this past month - HALLELUJAH!&nbsp; She is the cutest.&nbsp; Honestly.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xkItS7BhGRg/U7cHP5ZoP7I/AAAAAAAAFWU/KUww-erhy1Q/s1600/blogger-image-1865787269.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xkItS7BhGRg/U7cHP5ZoP7I/AAAAAAAAFWU/KUww-erhy1Q/s1600/blogger-image-1865787269.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qkA7gLC_ARQ/U9uw7yp_2JI/AAAAAAAAFgc/zSa-Rf0nY24/s1600/blogger-image-1260550505.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qkA7gLC_ARQ/U9uw7yp_2JI/AAAAAAAAFgc/zSa-Rf0nY24/s1600/blogger-image-1260550505.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-91VMsOPJDPA/VAUDbX4tttI/AAAAAAAAFjg/Fp5ayBVxRSA/s1600/Myla%2B4%2Bmonths.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-91VMsOPJDPA/VAUDbX4tttI/AAAAAAAAFjg/Fp5ayBVxRSA/s1600/Myla%2B4%2Bmonths.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BUuXu6nl4Kk/VCwttoRA_nI/AAAAAAAAFnI/sjaQ4NR-ihw/s1600/Myla%2Bfive%2Bmonths.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BUuXu6nl4Kk/VCwttoRA_nI/AAAAAAAAFnI/sjaQ4NR-ihw/s1600/Myla%2Bfive%2Bmonths.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yPTvIJP8RmI/VFqMzCzVMFI/AAAAAAAAFq0/qTzEZU4yICc/s1600/Myla%2Bsix%2Bmonths.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yPTvIJP8RmI/VFqMzCzVMFI/AAAAAAAAFq0/qTzEZU4yICc/s1600/Myla%2Bsix%2Bmonths.jpg" height="320" width="233" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ER1IjjtbJmo/VICin0M4WfI/AAAAAAAAFr8/K7ledP76WsE/s1600/Myla%2B7%2Bmonths.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ER1IjjtbJmo/VICin0M4WfI/AAAAAAAAFr8/K7ledP76WsE/s1600/Myla%2B7%2Bmonths.jpg" height="320" width="230" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3IOQV0t7GNQ/VKwPAmVlJxI/AAAAAAAAFu8/a6sY8919dkI/s1600/Myla%2BEight%2BMonths.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3IOQV0t7GNQ/VKwPAmVlJxI/AAAAAAAAFu8/a6sY8919dkI/s1600/Myla%2BEight%2BMonths.jpg" height="320" width="192" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b-7ufWnGHzg/VNBHh-LB2uI/AAAAAAAAFxg/Sb4vq39orLs/s1600/Myla%2B9%2Bmonths.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b-7ufWnGHzg/VNBHh-LB2uI/AAAAAAAAFxg/Sb4vq39orLs/s1600/Myla%2B9%2Bmonths.jpg" height="320" width="245" /></a></div><br /><br />http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2015/02/myla-nine-months-old.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-4291431642983075699Thu, 29 Jan 2015 23:45:00 +00002015-01-29T22:32:36.784-08:00MemoriesAt times it feels like life started for me on July 19th, 2011.&nbsp; And, in some ways, it did.&nbsp; There have been many, many pivotal times that came before that date - but none that so fully changed the entire makeup of my being like that one day and all of the days that have come since.&nbsp; The memories of my life before that date often feel like the memories of a stranger - as if I'd read them in a book or seen them in a movie.&nbsp; I know that they exist, but I have a hard time reconciling the truth of the fact that they actually belong to me.&nbsp; I know that on the surface, there is so little difference between the old me and the new me but the fact is that every little piece of me has been permanently altered.&nbsp; And so oddly, only the memories that have existed over the past 3 and a half years feel like they are really mine.&nbsp; They are the only memories I "own".&nbsp; I have spent countless hours of my time trying to analyze what this is all about and why this is how I feel, but I don't come up with much that makes sense.&nbsp; Only that that other person, the one I was, is someone I hardly know now and so her memories are just that - hers.&nbsp; To me they are like stories told by an old friend - and what is most troubling about it for me is that Max's chapter belongs to her (and not me).&nbsp; http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2015/01/memories.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-6540341115098719525Fri, 23 Jan 2015 00:58:00 +00002015-01-22T16:58:20.909-08:00Mo's favorite thingsMo's teachers had all of the kids tell them all about themselves. The answers to the questions they asked were posted on the walls of the classroom as a surprise for the parents who visited the school last night for Back to School night. This was just too awesome not to share:<div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jo3q-a4MuKQ/VMGcqvNfGZI/AAAAAAAAFxA/9Qxv0UtiFD0/s640/blogger-image--1761992626.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jo3q-a4MuKQ/VMGcqvNfGZI/AAAAAAAAFxA/9Qxv0UtiFD0/s640/blogger-image--1761992626.jpg"></a></div><br></div>http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2015/01/mo-favorite-things.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-937894206063674701Sat, 10 Jan 2015 04:11:00 +00002015-01-09T20:17:42.404-08:00Mo's First Week of PreschoolThis week was monumental at our house - but I mostly think that every time Mo passes a new milestone it is monumental. &nbsp;Maybe that is just how all parents feel (I think they do). &nbsp;Maybe it also has to do with him passing milestones that I remember dreaming about for Max, that he never got to (I think it is that too). &nbsp;Mo started preschool this week. &nbsp;He went every day until 1 pm. &nbsp;<a href="http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2012/08/rage.html">It is the school we planned on sending Max to</a>. It's connected to the synagogue where we spent <a href="http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2014/10/atonement.html">high holidays</a>. We did&nbsp;two and a half sessions of&nbsp;<a href="http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2014/01/explaining.html">Mommy and Me</a> there last year and Mo loves the children and the teachers. &nbsp;I have known that he has been ready for preschool for some time now but we had to wait for an opening. &nbsp;He LOVES being around other kids and he needed more stimulating play than he was getting here. &nbsp;I am so happy for him. &nbsp;SO SO happy that he is here - at this new place in life, such a happy and good boy.<br /><div><br /></div><div>I often say he saved my life. &nbsp;He saved Ted's too. &nbsp;We marvel at how much happiness he has brought us and when I say we were in a dark place before he came along - I am not saying we were disappointed, or depressed, or sad. &nbsp;I am saying that we literally didn't know how we were going to get through the next day. &nbsp;It was that bad. &nbsp;Mo's spirit has lit up our lives in a way that I did not think was possible three years ago. &nbsp;There are actually moments of time when I feel blissfully happy....and I do my best to bask in those moments and be present. &nbsp;I cannot believe how full my life is - how much I love these children. &nbsp;These week was full of those moments:</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NuH1vUw8JLg/VLCjXjDUP-I/AAAAAAAAFvg/O5EeRDdPkII/s1600/Mo%2Band%2Bthe%2Blittle%2Bgirl%2BTuesday.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NuH1vUw8JLg/VLCjXjDUP-I/AAAAAAAAFvg/O5EeRDdPkII/s1600/Mo%2Band%2Bthe%2Blittle%2Bgirl%2BTuesday.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hwYcJJd84SA/VLCjdcB1OnI/AAAAAAAAFvo/B1KcsErQxik/s1600/Mo%2Bpointing%2Bat%2Blittle%2Bgirl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hwYcJJd84SA/VLCjdcB1OnI/AAAAAAAAFvo/B1KcsErQxik/s1600/Mo%2Bpointing%2Bat%2Blittle%2Bgirl.jpg" height="320" width="246" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iTjTCeA7TI4/VLCkbEeYJ7I/AAAAAAAAFv0/qd6Awn3V9Cg/s1600/Mo%2Bwith%2Bthe%2Bexcavator.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iTjTCeA7TI4/VLCkbEeYJ7I/AAAAAAAAFv0/qd6Awn3V9Cg/s1600/Mo%2Bwith%2Bthe%2Bexcavator.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aIYQyPOcTYs/VLCkrXF26HI/AAAAAAAAFwA/Cojj40tmZMg/s1600/Mo%2Bplaying.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aIYQyPOcTYs/VLCkrXF26HI/AAAAAAAAFwA/Cojj40tmZMg/s1600/Mo%2Bplaying.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rPxffUeULxQ/VLCk9Bm1B6I/AAAAAAAAFwI/6FHG7P6xISw/s1600/Mo%2Bwith%2BChallah.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rPxffUeULxQ/VLCk9Bm1B6I/AAAAAAAAFwI/6FHG7P6xISw/s1600/Mo%2Bwith%2BChallah.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KsIqCkp_xhk/VLClYtEDOII/AAAAAAAAFwU/7FI_lZyqtk4/s1600/Mo%2Beating%2Blunch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KsIqCkp_xhk/VLClYtEDOII/AAAAAAAAFwU/7FI_lZyqtk4/s1600/Mo%2Beating%2Blunch.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gq8yeYRujjo/VLClv5o8pvI/AAAAAAAAFwc/b50ZhwmeniE/s1600/Mo%2Band%2Bthe%2Bgirl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gq8yeYRujjo/VLClv5o8pvI/AAAAAAAAFwc/b50ZhwmeniE/s1600/Mo%2Band%2Bthe%2Bgirl.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bwGRU0QxnAk/VLCl9213OMI/AAAAAAAAFwk/vMtLW1TXgZ4/s1600/Me%2Band%2BMo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bwGRU0QxnAk/VLCl9213OMI/AAAAAAAAFwk/vMtLW1TXgZ4/s1600/Me%2Band%2BMo.jpg" height="320" width="206" /></a></div><div><br /></div>http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2015/01/mos-first-week-of-preschool.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-1718808770183745127Tue, 06 Jan 2015 16:36:00 +00002015-01-06T08:39:06.329-08:00Myla Eight MonthsLate again - and maybe you should just count on that because I've only got about 7-8 weeks left in this pregnancy and our house is in escrow and Mo started preschool yesterday (more on that later).&nbsp; The truth is that it feels so good to be SO busy.&nbsp; I never ever thought life could be like this again.<br /><br />As I am sure you can guess, little Myla keeps me VERY busy (and tired).&nbsp; She is always wanting to switch up whatever she is doing.&nbsp; She likes sitting on the floor with toys, being in her stand up activity center, swinging in her swing (yes, it's an infant swing and yes, she's a little old for it, but she still likes it), eating (especially butternut squash, bananas and cheerios), chewing on everything, looking at videos and pictures of herself and carefully watching every move that her big brother makes.&nbsp; We are CRAZY about her.&nbsp; She has the best smile and I could chew on those thighs all day every day.<br /><br />Here is the recap (her 8 month birthday was on January 1st!):<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xkItS7BhGRg/U7cHP5ZoP7I/AAAAAAAAFWU/KUww-erhy1Q/s1600/blogger-image-1865787269.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xkItS7BhGRg/U7cHP5ZoP7I/AAAAAAAAFWU/KUww-erhy1Q/s1600/blogger-image-1865787269.jpg" height="320" width="240" />&nbsp;</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qkA7gLC_ARQ/U9uw7yp_2JI/AAAAAAAAFgc/zSa-Rf0nY24/s1600/blogger-image-1260550505.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qkA7gLC_ARQ/U9uw7yp_2JI/AAAAAAAAFgc/zSa-Rf0nY24/s1600/blogger-image-1260550505.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-91VMsOPJDPA/VAUDbX4tttI/AAAAAAAAFjg/Fp5ayBVxRSA/s1600/Myla%2B4%2Bmonths.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-91VMsOPJDPA/VAUDbX4tttI/AAAAAAAAFjg/Fp5ayBVxRSA/s1600/Myla%2B4%2Bmonths.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BUuXu6nl4Kk/VCwttoRA_nI/AAAAAAAAFnI/sjaQ4NR-ihw/s1600/Myla%2Bfive%2Bmonths.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BUuXu6nl4Kk/VCwttoRA_nI/AAAAAAAAFnI/sjaQ4NR-ihw/s1600/Myla%2Bfive%2Bmonths.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yPTvIJP8RmI/VFqMzCzVMFI/AAAAAAAAFq0/qTzEZU4yICc/s1600/Myla%2Bsix%2Bmonths.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yPTvIJP8RmI/VFqMzCzVMFI/AAAAAAAAFq0/qTzEZU4yICc/s1600/Myla%2Bsix%2Bmonths.jpg" height="320" width="233" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ER1IjjtbJmo/VICin0M4WfI/AAAAAAAAFr8/K7ledP76WsE/s1600/Myla%2B7%2Bmonths.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ER1IjjtbJmo/VICin0M4WfI/AAAAAAAAFr8/K7ledP76WsE/s1600/Myla%2B7%2Bmonths.jpg" height="320" width="230" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3IOQV0t7GNQ/VKwPAmVlJxI/AAAAAAAAFu4/qbcWZOkD_6g/s1600/Myla%2BEight%2BMonths.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3IOQV0t7GNQ/VKwPAmVlJxI/AAAAAAAAFu4/qbcWZOkD_6g/s1600/Myla%2BEight%2BMonths.jpg" height="320" width="192" /></a></div><br />http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2015/01/myla-eight-months.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-3905256334621376315Mon, 22 Dec 2014 18:57:00 +00002014-12-22T12:44:51.114-08:00One small shred of truthA woman in one of my grief groups tells us the story of a man, with whom she had been quite good friends for a long time before her daughter died.&nbsp; After her daughter's death, every time she saw this friend or heard from him, he kept pushing the same message: "Get over it".&nbsp; As is common in these situations, the two grew apart.&nbsp; She found she had no room left for him in this new life she was living - the life without her daughter, and he grew bored of hearing that she was "still" in pain.&nbsp; There could never be common ground......UNTIL.....his son died - and he fell into the abyss.&nbsp; After that, she heard from him daily - usually multiple times per day.&nbsp; He relied (and still relies) on her, the way that so many of us tend to rely on the people who started on this road before us.&nbsp; And while she knew how important her support was to him, and how much he needed (really NEEDED) her, she couldn't help but feel a little bitter.&nbsp; His words had so often hurt her before he lost his own child.&nbsp; He had spoke of her daughter with such little care, as though her life hadn't mattered at all, which cut this bereaved mother to her core.&nbsp; In his new place of grief, it was all about him.&nbsp; HE was the one in pain, HE was the one who had just lost a child, HE continued not to mention her child - probably because he was in too much pain to think about her.&nbsp; Of COURSE she would be there for him - because he was not the same man he was - he too was now changed forever and he FINALLY understood that there was no getting over it - only through.&nbsp; What a terrible way for him to have learned.&nbsp; Really - the absolute worst.<br /><br />I have not had this exact experience - though it resonates with me so much.&nbsp; I remember that years ago (when I was a teenager) an older mentor of mine lost his sister to cancer and I didn't say a thing.&nbsp; I hadn't said a thing and I was VERY aware of the fact that I hadn't.&nbsp; "I didn't know what to say" - so I kept quiet.&nbsp; I think I even avoided him for a period, which still makes me feel sick to think about.&nbsp; A few years later, my grandfather died - and I knew.&nbsp; I didn't know what it was like to lose a sibling exactly, because that is unique and frankly, a much more shocking and awful kind of loss in the fact that she was a young woman, with her whole life ahead of her - but I knew what it meant to know that I would never see this person who I loved so much ever again in my life - and it was more pain than I'd ever felt.&nbsp; I wasn't sure if it was too late to do so, but I did approach this friend/mentor and I apologized for my selfishness.&nbsp; TWO YEARS AFTER THE FACT.&nbsp; I told him that I only now understood a tiny fraction of the pain he must have felt.&nbsp; I am willing to bet my life that I was not the only one who hadn't said anything.&nbsp; I knew that I had acted selfishly and I was so so sorry that his adored sister had died too young.&nbsp; It is somewhat ironic that I now understand the isolation of having lost someone too young (and therefore, too scary) to mention.&nbsp; I have always wished that I had behaved differently.&nbsp; The shame is just so much more illuminated now.<br /><br />After losing Max, I drifted from many, many friends.&nbsp; They didn't know how to sit with me, they wouldn't comfort me, they didn't say anything, they stopped talking to me, they told me in many various ways to "get over it", or they wondered why <b><i>I</i></b> hadn't reached out to <b><i>them</i></b> (and were insulted?) and so they just let the drifting happen - instead of reaching out to <b><i>me </i></b>in my time of need.&nbsp; Three plus years later - this fact of drifting from so many does not make me sad or hurt much at all.&nbsp; In a weird way, I even get it and feel like we are all probably better off.&nbsp; I was and am scary and people don't know what to say.&nbsp; That is true. But, that doesn't mean that I have to put myself out for those people who I scare.&nbsp; It also doesn't mean that it is too late for someone to say, "I am sorry I wasn't there for you....."&nbsp; Today, I choose to surround myself with the people who were and are there for me.&nbsp; They are the people with whom I am most comfortable ...and frankly, I am tired of worrying about whether everyone else is comfortable with the awful fact that my beautiful son died.&nbsp; I would rather concentrate on how my relationships make me feel. I want to try and be in mutually supportive and loving relationships moving forward and so I don't waste my time with the other kinds.&nbsp; And, if I really think back on most of those old relationships, they were challenging before Max died, the fractures were just highlighted by his death.&nbsp; In the meantime, there are some amongst the group that drifted away that have faced their own personal crises in these past years and have either reached out to me personally or more generally to our shared community for support....and in some ways, I feel a little bitter, like the woman in my grief group.&nbsp; Only none of these individuals has lost a child.&nbsp; They have faced other disappointments and perhaps griefs of their own - nothing catastrophic but griefs none the less. And, I really don't know how to respond - Is it my obligation to reach out to or answer the call from everyone in pain, regardless of how they treated me in my most desperate and vulnerable moments?&nbsp; Really, am I responsible for being the leaning post to those who have hurt me?&nbsp; Since I've been through hell, should I be the bigger person and reach out to all who are struggling because I know what it means to struggle?&nbsp; I just don't think I am there yet and it causes me some guilt and angst. <br /><br />A woman in another grief group recently asked the question, "With the holidays approaching, should I let my family and friends know that I want them to mention my son? To visit his grave? To tell me that they are thinking of him in their cards? Or, should I just let them slowly drift away?"&nbsp; I think that is what it all boils down to when it comes to relationships.&nbsp; The truth is, we know that those who ignore the elephant in the room, which is our personal struggle, can never be someone we will feel close to.&nbsp; From my experience, the ones who would respond to our cry for help are usually the ones who would think to do this on their own, without our having to tell them to do it for us.&nbsp; I've been told (many many times in various ways), that it was my fault that so many drifted, said nothing, did nothing, told me to move on - because I was too scary.&nbsp; I'm ok with that.&nbsp; I will take full responsibility.&nbsp; But, I wonder - should we blame ourselves or everyone else when we don't say out-loud exactly what we need (which I actually thought, perhaps erroneously, is what I had done - by writing this blog)?&nbsp; I really think that there is nobody to blame.&nbsp; In times of crisis, your true friends will step forward on their own - without your having to tell them to do so - despite how scary you are, or uncomfortable your story makes them.&nbsp; They will step forward because they love you and want you to feel loved and supported.&nbsp; They will step forward because they WANT to, because to not step forward would hurt them as much as it hurts you.&nbsp; It won't be a question for those friends.&nbsp; You won't have to ask them.&nbsp; They will just be there.&nbsp; They won't take it personally that you haven't called them or returned their calls.&nbsp; They will just keep trying because they know you cannot be held responsible at a time when you can barely get through the slow moving unbearable moments of this new life of yours.&nbsp; At first it will hurt that not everyone you thought you were close to is making an effort.&nbsp; You will feel betrayed or abandoned or crazy even, that you thought you were close to people who you most obviously were not.&nbsp; In time, however, you will know where your truest relationships lie - and that will actually feel good.&nbsp; I've never known depths of friendship and love like I know today.&nbsp; A small shred of the truth and security that inevitably comes out of the most devastating and horrifying of life's possible experiences.http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2014/12/support.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-3184338088867655042Fri, 19 Dec 2014 00:29:00 +00002014-12-18T16:30:41.632-08:00My bursting heartI didn't think I could love him anymore - and then last night:<br /><br />I was feeding him a sandwich for dinner. I gave him a bite and he accidentally bit my thumb, hard.&nbsp; I pulled it away quickly but I didn't yelp or say "ouch" - I didn't really make a peep.&nbsp; But, he knew he bit me and he looked so upset.&nbsp; He'd been so enjoying turkey and avocado sandwich but now he looked guilty - as if he wasn't sure whether he should chew the bite and swallow it or if he should just spit it out.&nbsp; His little eyes filled with tears and his lower lip began to quiver.&nbsp; I tried to reassure him that he hadn't hurt me.&nbsp; "Mommy is ok!&nbsp; You didn't hurt me!&nbsp; It's ok, baby.&nbsp; You can eat your dinner.", but he was so upset.&nbsp; He slowly chewed the little bite and as soon as he had enough down, he asked for my hand.&nbsp; I gave it to him and he kissed my thumb - twice.&nbsp; I gave him a giant hug and kiss and told him how much I loved him.<br /><br />Where this boy found such love and empathy, I don't know, but my heart just melted....and at the same time, I felt awful and sad.&nbsp; I didn't think I could love him anymore and somehow, this love goes deeper and deeper every day.&nbsp; He's my special boy....the one who saved my life.&nbsp; I'm eternally grateful.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zjBnbWl3SiA/VJNxACQ-hjI/AAAAAAAAFuE/VaJIeVyq33M/s1600/Mo2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zjBnbWl3SiA/VJNxACQ-hjI/AAAAAAAAFuE/VaJIeVyq33M/s1600/Mo2.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div><br />http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2014/12/my-bursting-heart.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-6068356625388617854Tue, 16 Dec 2014 20:10:00 +00002014-12-16T12:18:45.034-08:00This is HalloweenI am not sure how this perfect storm came to be - this perfect storm that left Mosie SO in love with Halloween.&nbsp; Oddly enough, I think it started in speech therapy - the therapist has some pirate toys that Mo likes playing with and she always sings the "Yo ho" song from Pirates of the Caribbean while they play with them.&nbsp; So, the first obsession was with the song.&nbsp; I searched youtube for videos that featured the song and the one that Mo kept asking for again and again and again was this one:<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="https://ytimg.googleusercontent.com/vi/CHzlbRcU2A4/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/CHzlbRcU2A4&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/CHzlbRcU2A4&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div><br />100 times a day, Mo asked me for "Punkins!&nbsp; Peas, Mommy! Yo Hos, Peas!" (Peas = please)<br /><br />After Maxie's Benefit, I had about 20 leftover Halloween sticker books (many featuring pumpkins) that Mo still gets into every single day.&nbsp; I taught him what all of the other characters were too - pumpkins, bats, skeletons, owls, ghosts, spiders, witches.&nbsp; He was only mildly interested in the non-pumpkins until I took him to <a href="http://www.yelp.com/biz/boney-island-sherman-oaks">Boney Island</a>!&nbsp; Boney Island is a neighborhood Halloween super tricked out house that my cousins volunteer at every year (because they are neighbors).&nbsp; It lasts for something like 2 weeks.&nbsp; It is super packed and kid friendly (not scary) and features many, MANY skeletons, spiders, pumpkins, bats, owls, ghosts and witches.&nbsp; There is also a 3 story tree house, which my cousin Laurie took him up in (I couldn't go up since I was 5 months pregnant and carrying Myla the whole time we were there). His eyes were basically popping out of his head the whole evening, which was the night before Halloween.<br /><br />Ironically, we did nothing for actual Halloween.&nbsp; We stayed at my mothers house, which is up in the hills and doesn't get any trick or treaters.&nbsp; Ted was out of town and I didn't have the strength to go out a second night with both kids alone, so we stayed home and watched about 1,000 singing pumpkin videos.&nbsp; Now, you should know, the pumpkins sing all sorts of songs - Ghostbusters, Thriller, The Monster Mash.&nbsp; Whenever Mo hears one of these songs, his eyes open wide and he declares "Punkins!".&nbsp; But the one song that finally stuck is "This is Halloween":<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="https://ytimg.googleusercontent.com/vi/Y9fzhcYYAWA/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/Y9fzhcYYAWA&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/Y9fzhcYYAWA&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div><br />It plays in the soundtrack of my mind all day long.&nbsp; It lulls me to sleep at night and also keeps me awake if I get up to soothe Myla or use the bathroom.&nbsp; We tried to excite him about Thanksgiving - but it just didn't happen.&nbsp; Now it's the middle of December, we don't celebrate Christmas, and I just don't think we are going to find any Hanukkah related material that is going to be as cool or stick quite as intensely as Halloween has.&nbsp; When Mo wakes up in the morning or from naps, the first words out of his mouth are still usually either "Punkins!", "Halloween stickers!" or "This is Halloween Mommy, PEAS!".&nbsp; Mo's birthday is in July - wondering already if it's gonna be a Halloween themed party. After losing Max, <a href="http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2011/11/halloween.html">I was ready to kiss this holiday goodbye forever</a>.&nbsp; I guess things really do evolve - this kid REALLY brought back Halloween for us....<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xQfCsg7gvjs/VJCRgRxTLBI/AAAAAAAAFts/Z4kT0PY4IIk/s1600/Punkin%2Bhat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xQfCsg7gvjs/VJCRgRxTLBI/AAAAAAAAFts/Z4kT0PY4IIk/s1600/Punkin%2Bhat.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Mo in his homemade Punkin Pirate hat</span></div>http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2014/12/this-is-halloween.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-140755518012021959Thu, 11 Dec 2014 20:25:00 +00002014-12-11T13:07:42.236-08:00Myla's AdoptionYesterday we took Myla down to the Children's courthouse in Monterey Park and legally adopted her as our daughter - to love and raise as if she were our own birth child - forever.&nbsp; It was such a special experience.&nbsp; I cannot begin to describe how moved we were by this quick appearance before a judge, where all we really did was sign a few papers, raise our hands, take an oath and pose for a few photos.&nbsp; As soon as we sat down, I got teary eyed.&nbsp; At times it felt like this day would never come and the amount of joy that this little girl has brought into our lives over five short months is impossible for me to express.&nbsp; She is perfect in every way - a ray of sunshine.&nbsp; I can't imagine loving her any more than I do - even though my love for her grows in every way, every single day.&nbsp; When the judge recounted what this responsibility means, Ted and I looked at each other and we each knew what the other one was thinking - what a weird and tangled road we've traveled - full of the lowest lows and the highest highs.&nbsp; Yesterday was one of those highs - a blessing of the highest form.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-P9rSwhNpePc/VIn1w4krP8I/AAAAAAAAFsg/dWGNBzAppGM/s1600/Myna%2Bin%2Bstroller.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-P9rSwhNpePc/VIn1w4krP8I/AAAAAAAAFsg/dWGNBzAppGM/s1600/Myna%2Bin%2Bstroller.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0OYDJ8HTCcQ/VIn1_9ZPTcI/AAAAAAAAFso/LPTSY5YhgH4/s1600/Looking%2Bover%2Bpapers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0OYDJ8HTCcQ/VIn1_9ZPTcI/AAAAAAAAFso/LPTSY5YhgH4/s1600/Looking%2Bover%2Bpapers.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FJC8Cxr6aN0/VIn8sd8JTXI/AAAAAAAAFtA/gTDXfDH5yeo/s1600/taking%2Bthe%2Boath.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FJC8Cxr6aN0/VIn8sd8JTXI/AAAAAAAAFtA/gTDXfDH5yeo/s1600/taking%2Bthe%2Boath.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_QF8860IlLE/VIn9P2-yVWI/AAAAAAAAFtQ/2qLy4dInLeU/s1600/emotional.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_QF8860IlLE/VIn9P2-yVWI/AAAAAAAAFtQ/2qLy4dInLeU/s1600/emotional.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IPOlCM3JMpU/VIn9ZIOC1EI/AAAAAAAAFtY/AFQeL-l6Cgk/s1600/With%2Bthe%2Bjudge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IPOlCM3JMpU/VIn9ZIOC1EI/AAAAAAAAFtY/AFQeL-l6Cgk/s1600/With%2Bthe%2Bjudge.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">* Photos courtesy of one very proud and excited grandma.</div>http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2014/12/mylas-adoption.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-3661892579570962678Thu, 04 Dec 2014 18:06:00 +00002014-12-04T10:06:34.636-08:00Myla Seven Months OldExcuses, excuses - we have been pretty sick over here.&nbsp; Mo was the worst but Teddy, Myla and I have got the stuffy nose, sore throats, and nasty coughs too.&nbsp; I think the worst is now over.&nbsp; But, that is one of the reasons why I am 4 days late with Myla's seven month post.<br /><br />She is officially more of a baby than an infant these days.&nbsp; She is affectionately called "Myna" in these parts because that is what her big brother calls her.&nbsp; She is still pretty easy by day but has yet to sleep through the night.&nbsp; She likes being passed around at parties (which is awesome for her pregnant mommy).&nbsp; She loves being played with and especially being pulled up to stand for minutes at a time.&nbsp; She is sitting up with very few topples.&nbsp; She is a big girl and wears a size 4 diaper and size 9-12 months clothing (12 month pants are the only things that can contain those awesome thighs).&nbsp; We adore her!&nbsp; And, most importantly, she is legally OURS on December 10th (our court date!).&nbsp; We can't wait!<br /><br />Here she is!&nbsp; MYNA!&nbsp; I mean, MYLA!<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xkItS7BhGRg/U7cHP5ZoP7I/AAAAAAAAFWU/KUww-erhy1Q/s1600/blogger-image-1865787269.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xkItS7BhGRg/U7cHP5ZoP7I/AAAAAAAAFWU/KUww-erhy1Q/s1600/blogger-image-1865787269.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qkA7gLC_ARQ/U9uw7yp_2JI/AAAAAAAAFgc/zSa-Rf0nY24/s1600/blogger-image-1260550505.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qkA7gLC_ARQ/U9uw7yp_2JI/AAAAAAAAFgc/zSa-Rf0nY24/s1600/blogger-image-1260550505.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-91VMsOPJDPA/VAUDbX4tttI/AAAAAAAAFjg/Fp5ayBVxRSA/s1600/Myla%2B4%2Bmonths.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-91VMsOPJDPA/VAUDbX4tttI/AAAAAAAAFjg/Fp5ayBVxRSA/s1600/Myla%2B4%2Bmonths.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BUuXu6nl4Kk/VCwttoRA_nI/AAAAAAAAFnI/sjaQ4NR-ihw/s1600/Myla%2Bfive%2Bmonths.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BUuXu6nl4Kk/VCwttoRA_nI/AAAAAAAAFnI/sjaQ4NR-ihw/s1600/Myla%2Bfive%2Bmonths.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yPTvIJP8RmI/VFqMzCzVMFI/AAAAAAAAFq0/qTzEZU4yICc/s1600/Myla%2Bsix%2Bmonths.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yPTvIJP8RmI/VFqMzCzVMFI/AAAAAAAAFq0/qTzEZU4yICc/s1600/Myla%2Bsix%2Bmonths.jpg" height="320" width="233" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ER1IjjtbJmo/VICin0M4WfI/AAAAAAAAFr4/zrNoJYzOBpI/s1600/Myla%2B7%2Bmonths.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ER1IjjtbJmo/VICin0M4WfI/AAAAAAAAFr4/zrNoJYzOBpI/s1600/Myla%2B7%2Bmonths.jpg" height="320" width="230" /></a></div><br />http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2014/12/myla-seven-months-old.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-3287916387430218760Wed, 19 Nov 2014 18:28:00 +00002014-11-19T16:55:27.506-08:00Coping in SecretAll of the time people are telling me about someone else they know who has lost a child and is coping really well with the loss.&nbsp; Sometimes the context of these conversations feels a little accusatory, like, "why aren't YOU coping as well as our friend so and so?" - sometimes they are just told as a way to make a connection, like, "My friend so and so also lost her child and she has also figured out a way to move on and be happy" - sometimes the awful grief competition is introduced with the statement, like, "So and so lost her husband, then her mother, then she had multiple surgeries, and then she lost her son - and she is soldiering on - doing great!&nbsp; She is such an inspiration to us - it's amazing she hasn't fallen apart" (<b>unspoken subtext</b>: "Like you did.&nbsp; She has lost SO MUCH more than you but <i>she </i>is keeping it together").<br /><br />I usually nod, ask a few questions and leave it at that.&nbsp; Even without knowing "so and so", I feel pretty confident that he/she isn't coping as well as whoever I am talking to thinks he/she is.<br /><br /><b>I want to propose something </b>- <b>perhaps these people aren't coping as well as you think they are.</b>&nbsp; Perhaps their lives are incredibly complex and the only place that they can really grieve is with a grief group/therapist/significant other/alone.&nbsp; I mean, it just <i>may be </i>something worth considering.&nbsp; I know you are the one that knows them really well and of course, I don't know them at all - but I'd just like to put it out there.&nbsp; Consider it food for thought.<br /><br />A lot of grieving parents are not showing YOU the full picture - for a variety of reasons.&nbsp; A lot of grieving parents sense that people don't want to hear about how awful losing their child really is, they aren't comfortable expressing emotion, they don't want to "burden" you with their loss, they are of a generation/gender that was taught to keep a stiff upper lip or sweep it under the rug, or they may feel like it's important to "fake it till you make it".&nbsp; I am not saying that there aren't parents out there that are coping well - I am simply saying that <i>you </i>may not be privy to the complexity of the loss or the toll it's taken on your friend.<br /><br />I tend to take these stories with a grain of salt.&nbsp; My experience tells me that these people are not as well adjusted as you are giving them credit for....losing a child is catastrophic...it's as simple as that.&nbsp; If they are actually coping well today, the chances are that they have been to hell and back to get to this point.<br /><br />The fact is that I don't let everyone in myself - fewer and fewer, in fact, as time goes on.&nbsp; AND - the ones that I<i> do </i>let in - <i>don't</i> get let in for very long.&nbsp; There actually isn't one person on the earth who gets let in on it all - not even Ted.&nbsp; It is just way too heavy to actually share in its entirety.&nbsp; There are plenty of people in my life - people who don't read my blog, or who I keep things light and superficial with - who probably think <i>I</i> am one of those people who are coping so well.&nbsp; In many ways, I AM one of those people.&nbsp; Truly.&nbsp; My grief has finally made space for other things.&nbsp; I am super functional, very happy most of the time, especially when I am surrounded by friends and family.&nbsp; But, I would NEVER want someone using me as an example of "coping well" to another bereaved parent.&nbsp; It is too simplistic and untrue.&nbsp; It took me a LONG time to get here and I still have a LONG way to go.&nbsp; My grief defines who I am in many ways - even if there are also many other pieces of my life that define me as well.<br /><br />I remember one of the "happiness pushers" early on our loss kept telling me that she wanted me to talk to her friend who had lost a child.&nbsp; "She lost her son when he choked on a grape right in front of her and she is fine now".&nbsp; This person sounded like the last person on the earth I wanted to talk to after losing Max.&nbsp; I couldn't wrap my brain around someone being fine with losing their child and I didn't ever want to be that person myself.&nbsp; The happiness pusher thought that I was making too much of Max dying and that perhaps if I could just talk to someone who had lost a child and was well-adjusted, I'd be fine too.&nbsp; I thought about this mother many times over the first two years of my loss - how had she done it?&nbsp; Finally, and I am not sure why exactly, I did reach out to this mother, we made an appointment to talk on the phone and we spoke for several hours.&nbsp; As you can imagine, the mother is not "fine".&nbsp; She has incorporated the loss into her life.&nbsp; She has much joy from her two surviving children.&nbsp; She is busy and surrounded by people and her life does not any longer revolve around grief - which it did - for a long, long time.&nbsp; Her early experiences reflect much of the same stuff I've been going through - anger, denial, spiritual searching, despondency, defensiveness.&nbsp; But, there was still a gaping hole in her heart.&nbsp; She still went through periods of hell.&nbsp; She was frankly more than a bit insulted and pissed off that anyone had assumed she was "just fine" with the death of her son.&nbsp; She was actually happy to be talking to me because it had been so long since she felt like she could have an honest conversation about the havoc her sons death had wreaked on her life.&nbsp; Everyone expected more from her now - now that it has been <i>such a long time</i> since he died.&nbsp; Her <i>son</i>. (Honestly, how does anyone expect anyone to get over that?&nbsp; It's just unrealistic and unfair).<br /><br />I guess all I am saying is that people are fighting battles that they are not necessarily sharing with <i>you</i>.&nbsp; I made a decision to more open than most because that is who I am.&nbsp; I have always been vocal (voted most talkative in more than one of my growing up scenarios), I have always been outspoken.&nbsp; I have never been one to shy away from telling it like I see it.&nbsp; This hasn't always made me popular or well-liked but it has always been who I am.&nbsp; This is why you are hearing how I really feel about grief....and you are part of a small group of people in my life who do.&nbsp; The only ones who ARE really hearing it are the ones who are seeking it out - by asking me how I am doing, checking in on my Facebook page, or by reading my blog.&nbsp; Most everyone else likely thinks I am coping well and I don't go out of my way to tell them otherwise.&nbsp; Contrary to what you might think - I also think I am coping well.....as well as can be expected.&nbsp; <br /><br />I saw this post on Facebook yesterday and it made me think - how can we ever know the demons someone else is fighting unless we ask?&nbsp; Unless we are told?&nbsp; Maybe we should stop making assumptions about how someone else feels or copes - because the fact is that we can almost never really know.&nbsp; Anyway, just a thought.....<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1zU9fD6vhQE/VGzhGwn43AI/AAAAAAAAFrU/fYKALXnwBuQ/s1600/Robyn%2BWilliams%2Bphoto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1zU9fD6vhQE/VGzhGwn43AI/AAAAAAAAFrU/fYKALXnwBuQ/s1600/Robyn%2BWilliams%2Bphoto.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><br />http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2014/11/secretly-coping.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-6963269125695464266Sun, 16 Nov 2014 20:46:00 +00002014-11-17T10:30:38.823-08:00Safe sleepI've debated writing this post for a long time. I often feel like the annoying rule -follower standing on my soap box, preaching about safe sleep - barking messages nobody wants to hear.<br /><div><br /></div><div>The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends that babies under 1 sleep in their own cribs, with no blankets, bumpers, pillows, or anything else. They should have a tight fitting sheet on their mattress, be put down on their back, and wear a sleep sack and appropriately warm pajamas. They should not be over-bundled and should ideally have a fan on or air circulation in the room.</div><div><br /></div><div>SIDS is not suffocation. When babies who stop breathing die of suffocation, the cause of death is "suffocation". SIDS is the sudden infant death of a child that has no explanation. I guess my point is that even though you might feel very comfortable and sure that your child isn't in danger of suffocating, you cannot be confident and sure that your child isn't in danger of dying of SIDS - so why wouldn't you take all of the precautions? Even if you are tired - I just don't see how a full nights sleep is worth the risk.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>The research has showed for some time that there is a connection between safe sleep recommendations and SIDS. Many of the experts in the field feel that the research coming from Dr. Hannah Kinney in Boston is the most convincing. Her team have found a brain stem irregularity in children who have died from SIDS. The abnormality impairs the brain's ability to use and recycle seratonin. Seratonin is known for the role it plays in regulating moods - but it also helps to regulate essential functions like breathing, heartbeat, temperature blood pressure and arousal. The irregularity might be the reason that the brain is triggered to believe that the airflow is not readily available in certain sleep environments. The theory is that the soft bed covers found in adult beds, the pillows and boppys that are placed in cribs with babies, and just being on the tummy triggers the deadly response in baby's brain stem. Sadly, there is no way to test for this irregularity until after death. So, there is no way to know if your child has it. This is something that Dr. Kinney and her team are working on. First Candle and other organizations support her research (and other reputable research in the field as well). We hope that someday soon there will be a test to detect this irregularity in newborns.</div><div><br /></div><div>You know that babies die of SIDS. You know it because this is how we lost Maxie. Maybe you think your baby is safer because you love them so much. If love could have protected a child's life, I promise you - Max would still be here. Our love for him runs deep into the core of the earth and completely took over our lives from the moment he was born. He was loved and cared for and adored - and he still died. I KNOW that whatever decisions you make regarding your child are made with love. I don't want to be the bad guy, I just want to make sure you have all of the facts.<br /><a href="http://sidsamerica.org/hormone-deficiency-could-cause-sudden-infant-death-syndrome-sids">http://sidsamerica.org/hormone-deficiency-could-cause-sudden-infant-death-syndrome-sids</a><br /><a href="http://www.firstcandle.org/cms/wp-content/uploads/2014/07/Kinney-2006.pdf">http://www.firstcandle.org/cms/wp-content/uploads/2014/07/Kinney-2006.pdf</a></div>http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2014/11/safe-sleep.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-2851690584163399713Mon, 10 Nov 2014 20:08:00 +00002014-11-10T16:52:16.462-08:00Birthdays"Happy Birthday!&nbsp; I hope it's the best day ever!"<br /><br />"Happy Birthday to you!&nbsp; Happy Birthday to you!&nbsp; Happy Birthday Dear Abby!&nbsp; Happy Birthday to you!"<br /><br />"I hope you are celebrating today!"<br /><br />Birthdays are complex (are you surprised to see that I've written that?&nbsp; What isn't complex these days?).&nbsp; I loved getting so many wonderful FB messages, emails, voicemails, calls, and texts on Friday.&nbsp; Really.&nbsp; It's hard to feel unloved in the Facebook age when everyone is reminded that it's your birthday and makes an effort to acknowledge it.&nbsp; My birthday is just one of those days now that leaves me feeling pretty empty, heartbroken and guilty.&nbsp; For me, birthdays stopped being full of childlike wonder when I stopped being a child.&nbsp; I think birthdays started feeling a little self indulgent around my 25th one.&nbsp; Not to say I haven't had some good celebrations since then.&nbsp; I have.&nbsp;<a href="http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2013/11/a-nearly-perfect-day.html"> Including my 40th last year - celebrated in Costa Rica with a group of my very best friends</a>.&nbsp; It wasn't really about my birthday though - more of an excuse to remind myself and be reminded that life is still full of love and possibility.<br /><br />Having a birthday and the expectation of joy around it actually feels kind of shitty. I just can't believe I keep having these things when Max never even had ONE.&nbsp; There is just nothing that is more wonderful than seeing a child celebrating their special day.&nbsp; It makes me feel sick inside that he never got that and that all of his birthdays are commemorated without him.<br /><br />"<span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$0:0">Hi Abby, just want to send you a few big hugs and lots of love for your birthday xxxx" - wrote another bereaved mother to me on Facebook</span></span></span><br /><br /><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$0:0">"Thank you, that's so sweet of you", I wrote back.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span></span></span><br /><br /><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$0:0">I've never met this mom in person.&nbsp; She lives in the UK.&nbsp; She is part of a private grief group I belong to on FB.&nbsp; Inside the virtual walls of that group is one of the only places that I really can say how I feel (you think I am telling you how I really feel here?&nbsp; Nope).&nbsp; Even though I've literally never met even one of these people in person, I feel closer to them and trust them more than most people I have known my whole life and see regularly.</span></span></span><br /><br /><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$0:0">"</span></span></span><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$0:0"><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415397414684=2cfda0a2f502ee98070.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415397414684=2cfda0a2f502ee98070.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415397414684=2cfda0a2f502ee98070.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$0:0">Birthdays are hard now, aren't they?", she answered</span></span></span></span></span></span><br /><br /><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$0:0"><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415397414684=2cfda0a2f502ee98070.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415397414684=2cfda0a2f502ee98070.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415397414684=2cfda0a2f502ee98070.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$0:0">I breathed out a deep sigh of relief to finally have someone acknowledge the reality of the day.&nbsp; "Thank god someone gets it", was all I could think.&nbsp; Of course the only ones who really get it are those who have lost like I have.&nbsp; </span></span></span></span></span></span><br /><br /><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$0:0"><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415397414684=2cfda0a2f502ee98070.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415397414684=2cfda0a2f502ee98070.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415397414684=2cfda0a2f502ee98070.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$0:0">I cried myself to sleep Thursday night.&nbsp; I also spent too much of Friday locked in my bathroom at home so my nanny wouldn't see me crying.&nbsp; And it isn't because I am sad to have turned 41.&nbsp; I don't feel like an old woman (because I'm not one) and if anything, getting older is the one thing that I can actually appreciate about my birthday.</span></span></span></span></span></span><br /><br /><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$0:0"><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415397414684=2cfda0a2f502ee98070.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415397414684=2cfda0a2f502ee98070.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415397414684=2cfda0a2f502ee98070.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$0:0">I know it's hard to understand how someone with so much good in her life can still have so much sadness.&nbsp; I hope that you never ever have to understand how <i>complex </i>(yep, there it is again) it all is.&nbsp; I have a wonderful husband, two delicious living children and another one on the way (god willing).&nbsp; I have a good job and a nice home and two loyal dogs.&nbsp; I've got good friends, a nice family, my parents are still living, and I am not lacking in anything that I really need.&nbsp; But there is this one missing piece that never goes away.&nbsp; I don't have Max.&nbsp; And, what's so much worse is all that he doesn't have. &nbsp;</span></span></span></span></span></span><br /><br /><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$0:0"><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415397414684=2cfda0a2f502ee98070.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415397414684=2cfda0a2f502ee98070.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415397414684=2cfda0a2f502ee98070.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$0:0">I am finally coming out of the birthday fog (both his and mine) and genuinely feeling like there is some sunshine up ahead.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span></span></span></span></span></span><br /><br /><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$0:0"><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415397414684=2cfda0a2f502ee98070.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415397414684=2cfda0a2f502ee98070.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415397414684=2cfda0a2f502ee98070.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$0:0">"No light that was ever born in love, can ever be extinguised." - Darcie Sims </span></span></span></span></span></span><br /><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$0:0"><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415397414684=2cfda0a2f502ee98070.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415397414684=2cfda0a2f502ee98070.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415397414684=2cfda0a2f502ee98070.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$0:0"><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".25.$mid=11415397623775=28d58964a4a75efee40.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".25.$mid=11415397623775=28d58964a4a75efee40.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".25.$mid=11415397623775=28d58964a4a75efee40.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$0:0"><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".25.$mid=11415397793245=28713b9ad0e42234a86.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".25.$mid=11415397793245=28713b9ad0e42234a86.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br /><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$0:0"><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415397414684=2cfda0a2f502ee98070.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415397414684=2cfda0a2f502ee98070.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415397414684=2cfda0a2f502ee98070.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$0:0"><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".25.$mid=11415397623775=28d58964a4a75efee40.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".25.$mid=11415397623775=28d58964a4a75efee40.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".25.$mid=11415397623775=28d58964a4a75efee40.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$0:0"><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".25.$mid=11415397793245=28713b9ad0e42234a86.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".25.$mid=11415397793245=28713b9ad0e42234a86.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br /><span class="_5yl5" data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0"><span data-reactid=".1x.$mid=11415392634164=223832772ca5efe0189.2:0.0.0.0.0.0.$end:0:$0:0"><br /></span></span></span>http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2014/11/birthdays.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-2169919329230060950Wed, 05 Nov 2014 20:47:00 +00002014-11-05T12:48:55.243-08:00Myla Six MonthsAw man.&nbsp; I am a few days late.&nbsp; I have excuses - we were at my mom's house all last week in an attempt to keep our house clean.&nbsp; We put our house on the market and hoped to have a bunch of showings before we returned home (more on that later....) I cannot find the blanket that I was taking Myla's photos on but am still hopeful it will show up. Ted was out of town all weekend, which made organizing my time kind of hard.&nbsp; But, alas, there is no excuse.&nbsp; Myla turned 6 months on Saturday and we should have done the photo shoot then.&nbsp; It in no way reflects how HAPPY we are that she is getting older!&nbsp; She is a doll!&nbsp; She is sleeping better (with lots of patience and commitment to her sleep training), she is eating a few bites here and there of "solid" food (otherwise known as mushy sweet potatoes), and she smiles and laughs all of the time.&nbsp; Mostly, I can't get over how CUTE she is.&nbsp; I'm obsessed.&nbsp; She gets lots of squeezes and kisses all day long.<br /><br />So - here is the recap, starting with 2 months, when we got her!<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xkItS7BhGRg/U7cHP5ZoP7I/AAAAAAAAFWU/KUww-erhy1Q/s1600/blogger-image-1865787269.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xkItS7BhGRg/U7cHP5ZoP7I/AAAAAAAAFWU/KUww-erhy1Q/s1600/blogger-image-1865787269.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qkA7gLC_ARQ/U9uw7yp_2JI/AAAAAAAAFgc/zSa-Rf0nY24/s1600/blogger-image-1260550505.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qkA7gLC_ARQ/U9uw7yp_2JI/AAAAAAAAFgc/zSa-Rf0nY24/s1600/blogger-image-1260550505.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-91VMsOPJDPA/VAUDbX4tttI/AAAAAAAAFjg/Fp5ayBVxRSA/s1600/Myla%2B4%2Bmonths.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-91VMsOPJDPA/VAUDbX4tttI/AAAAAAAAFjg/Fp5ayBVxRSA/s1600/Myla%2B4%2Bmonths.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BUuXu6nl4Kk/VCwttoRA_nI/AAAAAAAAFnI/sjaQ4NR-ihw/s1600/Myla%2Bfive%2Bmonths.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BUuXu6nl4Kk/VCwttoRA_nI/AAAAAAAAFnI/sjaQ4NR-ihw/s1600/Myla%2Bfive%2Bmonths.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yPTvIJP8RmI/VFqMzCzVMFI/AAAAAAAAFqw/IRULrX4ZDJ4/s1600/Myla%2Bsix%2Bmonths.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yPTvIJP8RmI/VFqMzCzVMFI/AAAAAAAAFqw/IRULrX4ZDJ4/s1600/Myla%2Bsix%2Bmonths.jpg" height="320" width="233" /></a></div><br />http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2014/11/myla-six-months.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-2682652455026816286Tue, 04 Nov 2014 19:36:00 +00002014-11-04T11:38:19.809-08:00A music class moment"Are you expecting?", asked the woman sitting next to me in Mo's music class.<br />"I am", I said, smiling.<br />"Do you have other children?", she asked - motioning to Mo.<br />I paused.<br />"I do.&nbsp; I have a six month old daughter at home".<br />At home is what I say to avoid having to get "into it".&nbsp; I am just not mentioning my other son right now - who isn't "at home".&nbsp; It doesn't really work, but it's what I do.<br />"Ooooo, a girl!", she said enthusiastically.&nbsp; She looked down at her own belly (which wasn't bulging nearly as much as mine is) and said, disappointingly, "We are having another boy."<br />She is due two weeks after me.&nbsp; She has 2 boys already - a four year old and a two year old.<br />"Boys are wonderful!", I said - feeling envious of her three boys.<br />"I was hoping for a girl", she said, still disappointed.<br />"Girls are wonderful too", I said.&nbsp; And they are - I ADORE my baby girl.<br />The teacher asked us to stand up to sing the next song.&nbsp; "All of this standing up and sitting down is getting pretty old - dontcha think?", I said, grasping my sides while awkwardly pulling myself up.<br />She laughed, "Tell me about it."<br /><br />I really like this mom.&nbsp; She is always smiling and she has the cutest boys and they are all so loving with each other.&nbsp; I was excited to learn she was pregnant (she really doesn't look pregnant but anyway.....) and thought that maybe we would chat about our pregnancies in the coming months and be able to commiserate about where we are at.&nbsp; Still, the conversation made me feel emotional - as so many seemingly benign conversations with other mommies do.&nbsp; I moved on from it pretty quick though and just put my focus back on Mo and the class. ..................................and then.........................really out of nowhere - I found myself on the outside of a beautiful, chaotic, playtime music scene and my eyes began to fill with tears and it took everything in me to keep the tears in my eyes.&nbsp; It was everything - sadness that Max wasn't there, shame that I hadn't mentioned him, heartbroken that I don't have what she is disappointed to have, gratitude for being given a second chance at motherhood with Mo and Myla and this new little guy who is coming.&nbsp; It just felt like TOO much to contain.&nbsp; I grabbed my phone to record the moment, thinking there was something big here.&nbsp; But, then I got home and saw that it was just this:<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/CngEc-332p8/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="https://www.youtube.com/v/CngEc-332p8?version=3&f=user_uploads&c=google-webdrive-0&app=youtube_gdata" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/v/CngEc-332p8?version=3&f=user_uploads&c=google-webdrive-0&app=youtube_gdata" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div><br />An ordinary day, doing ordinary stuff with my kid.&nbsp; Wish it wasn't laden with so much more......<br /><br />http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2014/11/a-music-class-moment.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-1614157735787381735Thu, 23 Oct 2014 15:09:00 +00002014-10-23T08:09:05.022-07:00Punching BagMaybe I'm an easy target. I'm certainly imperfect and flawed - perhaps more than I've ever been. I don't always say the right things- I've got a bad combination of grief brain, mommy brain, and pregnancy brain. I'm emotional - still very much climbing my way out of the deepest, darkest hole you can imagine. I know you find my emotions and grief frustrating. I am learning not to come to you when I'm feeling anxious, sad, or bereft. I am doing my best to put on my cool, calm and collected face for you - even though I'm none of those things. And still, somehow, I continue to feel like your punching bag. I am asking you to stop - and consider that I might be more sensitive than most - and, embarrassingly, more defensive than most as well. Try to muster up your most empathetic self - please - I'm fragile - and if you love me, you'll treat me kindly, you'll give me a pass, you'll let me make mistakes while I navigate this new life I have. Stop treating me like your punching bag. Please. One more punch might break me.http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2014/10/punching-bag.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-4481812169098142782Thu, 16 Oct 2014 17:22:00 +00002014-10-16T10:37:34.395-07:00Maxie's Fourth Birthday BenefitI don't yet have the photos back from Maxie's Birthday Benefit on Sunday...so you'll just have to trust me when I say that it was packed and everyone seemed to be having a great time.&nbsp; We had about 200 people - SO many friends, friends kids, family, and many unfamiliar faces as well.&nbsp; We raised a lot of money for First Candle - over $31,000.&nbsp; Everything went mostly pretty smoothly.&nbsp; All in all - a great success and something that we feel really good about.<br /><br />I got an email from a friend asking me if I was satisfied with how the event turned out.&nbsp; The truth is that it isn't a really "satisfying" venture.&nbsp; In many ways, it feels very very empty for me - and I can only speak for myself.&nbsp; It is one of the things I do to try and work through this gigantic loss.&nbsp; I do it because I'm scared that to do nothing might feel even worse.&nbsp; But, there is something super icky feeling about asking people to support you.&nbsp; It can feel selfish and desperate.&nbsp; <br /><br />On the other hand, it is amazing when people actually do answer the call and step forward to lend their support.&nbsp; Some of the people who lent a hand aren't even people I've personally reached out to or people I know very well - like so many of our sponsors.&nbsp; What gigantic hearts they have to support us without even really knowing us - just knowing the very basics of our story.&nbsp; There are also a handful of individuals every year who help me take ownership of the event and really work with me from start to finish to make sure every detail is covered.&nbsp; I wouldn't be able to pull off this event without them.&nbsp; They go above and beyond and I am grateful to them.<br /><br />I came home on Sunday night feeling incredibly sad.&nbsp; I should have felt ecstatic: the event was over, I'd seen so many wonderful friends, everyone had a ball, we had been so supported throughout, we'd raised a ton of money.... but I just felt sad.&nbsp; There is something so incongruous about drinking beer and eating delicious food, and face painting and arts and crafts and big smiles and warm "hellos" and bidding wars over gift certificates - and how I really feel about the birthday party of my boy who I love more than life itself who isn't here to celebrate.&nbsp; Behind my smile, you may not see how empty my world often is without him. I keep saying it, but I know there is no way for you to know.<br /><br />I am so grateful that when I build it - you all come.&nbsp; I know that kids missed naps, that dads (and moms) missed Sunday football (hopefully you DVR'd?), that perhaps you were nervous about seeing me and not knowing what to say, or that you only knew me and I was too busy putting out fires to spend time with you.&nbsp; I am grateful that despite those challenges - you came, you bought into our vision, your kids had fun, you guzzled some cold ones, you bid on some auction items you probably didn't need (but are so happy to have won), and you helped to celebrate the life of our special little boy.&nbsp; He wasn't here long but his impact is still felt.&nbsp; Thank you for that......http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2014/10/maxies-fourth-birthday-benefit.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-3602524800608133084Wed, 08 Oct 2014 17:08:00 +00002014-10-08T10:08:25.966-07:00We make boysI guess it's true - Ted and I make boys. So, don't be too surprised when I tell you that we've got another one coming.<br /><br />Baby Boy "M. Leviss #3" due to arrive on or around March 1, 2015. We are very, very excited!<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tR35fFoZOtQ/VDVvdkcRKwI/AAAAAAAAFog/0hI2HOu0VKg/s1600/Baby%2BBoy%2B%233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tR35fFoZOtQ/VDVvdkcRKwI/AAAAAAAAFog/0hI2HOu0VKg/s1600/Baby%2BBoy%2B%233.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Isn't he cute? </div><br />http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2014/10/we-make-boys.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-6387497369032432006Tue, 07 Oct 2014 17:42:00 +00002014-10-07T10:42:56.759-07:00Maxie's Fourth BirthdayI cannot stop crying.&nbsp; I literally CANNOT stop crying.&nbsp; The waves of grief hit me every single day - but today, they are <i>pummeling</i> me, <i>pounding </i>me, <i>breaking </i>me.&nbsp; "I don't know how I am still doing this", is what I keep thinking, realizing that I have to do this forever.&nbsp; Life is unfair and it can be terribly hard.&nbsp; We all lose people we love throughout our time on this planet and its awful and painful and heartbreaking.....but NOBODY should ever have to lose a child.&nbsp; NOBODY.&nbsp; There is just nothing that I would have imagined happening in this life of mine that could have come close to this pain.&nbsp; Nothing.<br /><br />Today, he would have been 4.&nbsp; We would have woken him up singing.&nbsp; We'd be excitedly talking about his upcoming party this weekend. We'd be planning a special day, with all of his most favorite food (which likely wouldn't be greek yogurt and bananas anymore), and so many of his favorite people.&nbsp; Or, at least, I think that is what we'd be doing.&nbsp; I'll never ever know....because we never even got to celebrate one birthday with him.<br /><br />I am angry and so so sad.&nbsp; And when I read over what I've written it's all just words and there is no way to just SHOW you my heart and how BROKEN it is and how NOTHING fills the void.&nbsp; He deserved more than this.&nbsp; We all did.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R59X5rnq19k/VDQlxYAbXZI/AAAAAAAAFoA/zJKOJ0HuhJ0/s1600/Maxie%2BKings%2Bbib.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R59X5rnq19k/VDQlxYAbXZI/AAAAAAAAFoA/zJKOJ0HuhJ0/s1600/Maxie%2BKings%2Bbib.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br /><br />http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2014/10/maxies-fourth-birthday.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-173600874712966130Fri, 03 Oct 2014 17:27:00 +00002014-10-03T10:27:20.086-07:00AtonementMo and I went to Temple on Rosh Hashana (the Jewish New Year). I dropped Mo off at the kids service/childcare and I sat with friends. I wouldn't say my whole heart was really in it (not sure that it ever really is) but I felt like I wanted to go for whatever reason. [Frankly, one of the main reasons was so that I could drop Mo in the childcare - he isn't starting pre-school until January and he is getting ansy and wants to be around other kids. I knew this would be a fun day for him.]&nbsp;<br /><br />I sat in the sanctuary, watching the people come and go, whispering back and forth with my friend Limor, getting scolded by the old man sitting behind us ("Ladies, there is a service going on" - HA! Some things never change). I didn't spend time reflecting on the year and all that it has brought - perhaps because it has been such an overwhelming and complex year - with so much joy, sorrow, pain, delight, renewal. It's almost too much to think about. I just sat there singing along absent-mindedly - disconnected - unattached - disinterested in the spiritual aspect of the day. That's how religious services go for me. In a strange way, it is a meditative time. I may not be thinking about the prayers themselves, but I do sort of disconnect from regular life.&nbsp; I don't think about the nonsense that occupies my brain 90% of the time - work, finances, scheduling, whatever. I do just flip through pages - figure out where we are, how much left we have to go, why the cantor isn't singing the tune that I know.<br /><br />I wasn't thinking about much, that is, until we got to the Amidah - a pivotal prayer said in all religious Jewish services - one that I've read the Hebrew and English version of at least 100,000 times over the course of my lifetime.&nbsp;<br /><br /><i>"Praised be the Lord our G-d, who grants eternal life to the deceased".&nbsp; </i><br /><br />My eyes are filling with tears just writing this now. ETERNAL LIFE. A Jewish concept? I've asked every Jew I know - rabbis, orthodox, chabad, and kabbalistic friends - "Does Judaism support a concept of life after death?" In the wake of my child's death, I have not been able to come up with a more relevant or important question for plugging forward with my own life. It's basically all I ever think about - night and day. I've asked so many observant Jews this question, I am surprised they don't go running when they see me approaching. The answer I usually get is "I think so" or "Judaism focuses on the life we live now. We do good because it is the right way to live, not because of the reward we may receive in the afterlife". But, I am not worried about the reward - I don't care about Heaven or Hell or Satan or Angels or harps or cupids or anything. I care about Max. I care that he isn't just buried on the side of a hill near my house - his brief life having only experienced baths and tickles and kisses and naps. I care that I will be with him again - which is my version of Heaven (and so maybe I do care about the reward and punishment thing).<br /><br />The idea that Judaism supports this concept felt so profound to me in that moment that I actually had to hold back my tears in the service. I think going from whispered giggling gossip to bursting out into tears seemingly out of nowhere might have been a little much for my seating companions - not that my quickly changing emotional range is anything new.&nbsp; Somehow, I did manage to hold it together.<br /><br />Earlier this week, a girlfriend of mine wished me "G'mar Chatima Tova" (Basically - "May you be inscribed in the Book of Life this year").&nbsp; I read through more of the English translation on Rosh Hashana and found the familiar words reminding me that G-d is going to take the next 10 days (which are up tomorrow) to decide who lives and who dies, who suffers and who prospers, who will have abundance and who will find poverty.&nbsp; "It doesn't add up", I told her.&nbsp; "Why would G-d NOT have inscribed Max into the Book of Life? He was just a baby.&nbsp; He didn't deserve to die."&nbsp; Is it possible that he was being punished for some baby sized sin?&nbsp; (NO, by the way, <i>IMPOSSIBLE</i>).&nbsp; Was his life taken because G-d decided during those 10 days in 2010 that Ted and I would be written onto to list of people who would suffer?&nbsp; And, if so, (and I am not going to argue with G-d that somehow I didn't deserve this punishment - because I can be arrogant, and egomaniacal, and superficial, and prone to holding grudges - maybe I DID deserve the ultimate form of punishment...but then) why did <b>Max</b> end up the one whose life was taken?&nbsp; Why not me then? WHY?&nbsp; Why? Why? Why? &nbsp; <br /><br />I can't wrap my brain around any of it. And, I refuse to accept it all as is. There has to be more to the story.&nbsp; THERE HAS TO BE. Ted reminds me often that this line of thinking that I am stuck in constantly is an exercise in futility. I will never know....and of course, he is right.<br /><br />Tomorrow - we will be in Synagogue again - for Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement) - the day that the Book is sealed for the year.&nbsp; I wonder what we can expect in this next year.&nbsp; Have Ted and I paid enough?&nbsp; Will we be rewarded for having endured the suffering?&nbsp; Will the mistakes we made cause the life of some innocent to be destroyed?&nbsp; Have we spent enough time apologizing to everyone we may have hurt over the last year (I can only speak for myself - NOPE)? Will we find the strength to keep rebuilding our lives (because there are many ways that it feels like we've had to start from scratch since losing Max)?&nbsp; I don't know.&nbsp; What I will focus on tomorrow is this: <i><b>"Praised be the Lord our G-d, who grants eternal life to the deceased".</b> </i>It is really the only thing that matters to me right now. What's done is done - I only have the future to look forward to now.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NM2dBHTPNTM/VC7cWZ1BpOI/AAAAAAAAFnw/fCIWBfvcLg8/s1600/Helmet%2Bbaby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NM2dBHTPNTM/VC7cWZ1BpOI/AAAAAAAAFnw/fCIWBfvcLg8/s1600/Helmet%2Bbaby.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><br />http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2014/10/atonement.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-823549861851853736.post-4911123334278281515Wed, 01 Oct 2014 16:39:00 +00002014-10-01T09:40:52.076-07:00Myla Five MonthsOur little girl is five months old today!&nbsp; She is a sweet and easy baby.&nbsp; She is chubby, chubby, chubby and super happy.&nbsp; She loves getting kisses and hugs and being held.&nbsp; She also loves getting attention from her big brother, which happens sporadically but also intensely.&nbsp; We love her more each day!<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xkItS7BhGRg/U7cHP5ZoP7I/AAAAAAAAFWU/KUww-erhy1Q/s1600/blogger-image-1865787269.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xkItS7BhGRg/U7cHP5ZoP7I/AAAAAAAAFWU/KUww-erhy1Q/s1600/blogger-image-1865787269.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qkA7gLC_ARQ/U9uw7yp_2JI/AAAAAAAAFgc/zSa-Rf0nY24/s1600/blogger-image-1260550505.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qkA7gLC_ARQ/U9uw7yp_2JI/AAAAAAAAFgc/zSa-Rf0nY24/s1600/blogger-image-1260550505.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-91VMsOPJDPA/VAUDbX4tttI/AAAAAAAAFjg/Fp5ayBVxRSA/s1600/Myla%2B4%2Bmonths.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-91VMsOPJDPA/VAUDbX4tttI/AAAAAAAAFjg/Fp5ayBVxRSA/s1600/Myla%2B4%2Bmonths.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BUuXu6nl4Kk/VCwttoRA_nI/AAAAAAAAFnE/s6SJ3XNsu_Y/s1600/Myla%2Bfive%2Bmonths.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BUuXu6nl4Kk/VCwttoRA_nI/AAAAAAAAFnE/s6SJ3XNsu_Y/s1600/Myla%2Bfive%2Bmonths.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><br />For some reason, I have trouble catching her smiles in photos but she actually smiles a lot.....and, boy, is it cute! <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-K-ee8Zkv7Xk/VCwuPZfBECI/AAAAAAAAFnM/nyQwSaSyxy4/s1600/Myla%2Bsmiles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-K-ee8Zkv7Xk/VCwuPZfBECI/AAAAAAAAFnM/nyQwSaSyxy4/s1600/Myla%2Bsmiles.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><br /><br />http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2014/10/myla-five-months.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Abby Leviss)4